“Breaking news: The Sheriff’s Secret Police and the City Council have taken unilateral action to disunite Night Vale and Desert Bluffs. The sheriff, backed by the hulking figures of the City Council, led a fleet of Secret Police cars into neighborhoods that used to be Desert Bluffs, announcing that all these buildings were now Night Vale’s, and that everyone living there needed to go.
“Nothing against you personally,” the sheriff said as their Secret Police chased after former Desert Bluffs citizens with what could be described as comically-sized potato sacks, if it weren’t for the grim seriousness with which the police conducted their chase.
The former Desert Bluffs citizens started to flee, panic set pale and glistening on their faces."
“Out of the car stepped Mayor Cardinal. She looked around at the scene as it lay. She couldn’t have seemed younger or more tired. She took a slow, deliberate breath.
“Go home, Sam,” she said to the sheriff. “Go home, all of you.”
The sheriff looked around at their police officers for support, and then shouted back, “You can’t stop us, Dana. We will drive these people out of our town.”
“No, Sam,” she said. “You won’t. You won’t because it’s their town too, now. You won’t because there’s nowhere else they should go. You won’t because it’s a bad thing to do and I think, somewhere in there, you aren’t a bad person. Maybe I’m wrong about that, wouldn’t be the first time. But primarily, you won’t,” she concluded, “because I won’t let you.”
And she folded her arms, and she said nothing more.”
“And still Dana stood, silent, arms folded, until the last of them was gone. She turned to the new citizens of Night Vale who had, moments before, been fleeing.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m Dana. Don’t hesitate to get in touch if you have any problems, okay?”
“We all have our regionalisms. For instance, in many parts of the country, there is a sandwich, known as a sub sandwich, that is in other places known as a hero, a hoagie, a grinder, a longburger, a prince’s delight, or a bread burrito.
This is one example of a difference in culture. There are others.
It is in these little details that we see ourselves, that we define how we are not others, and thus how we are ourselves.
When confronted with someone whose “normal” is not our “normal,” we are forced to confront the most frightening prospect of all: that there is no such thing as “normal.” Just the accidental cultural moment we happened to be born into, a cultural happenstance that never existed before, and will never exist again.”